


make a wish

by ohsun



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Meet-Cute, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:09:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28954758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohsun/pseuds/ohsun
Summary: "Make a wish," Taeyong says, as Doyoung closes his eyes to blow out the candles.But Doyoung has everything he wants, what else could he possibly wish for? He has everything but this, someone that makes him light candles on his birthday, someone that makes him close his eyes to make a wish, someone that makes eating cake in the middle of the night on his living room floor feel special, someone like Taeyong.So he wishes for Taeyong.ORFive of Doyoung's birthdays, and one of Taeyong's.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 46
Kudos: 222





	make a wish

**Author's Note:**

> hi! i really wanted to write something birthday themed and it turned into this. it’s unbetad so i apologise for any obvious mistakes that slipped through my own proof reading

**twenty**

Doyoung is turning twenty when he meets Taeyong. 

He is in fact turning twenty that very same evening, something he’s been looking forward to for weeks. Not the twenty years of age - but the night out with his roommates.

Johnny starts teasing it weeks in advance, just as the New Year’s celebrations have died down, he casually claims he’s resorting to sobriety until Doyoung’s birthday comes around. It’s not just Doyoung’s birthday, Jaehyun and Johnny’s conveniently timed in the same month - always with the promise of some wild nights out to celebrate it. 

He’s not exactly counting the days, but when the weekend of his birthday rolls around, he _is_ a little excited to finally get out. The fact that tonight is his birthday night only makes it better, his friends eager to buy him drinks and shower him in attention. 

Johnny has just brought another six shots to the booth they’re sharing, placing them out on the table. 

“I thought you said we were getting twenty?” Jaehyun asks. “You know - twenty years old, twenty shots.” 

“You’re not going to reach twenty-one with that mindset,” Doyoung says, laughing.

“Doyoung’s right,” Johnny says, clearly experienced in the manner with his twenty years and counting, “gets increasingly difficult with the years.” 

Jaehyun scoffs, inching one of the shots closer to him. Some of the tequila sloshes over the edges, running down his fingers. He’s too drunk to notice much of it, just like he’s too drunk to notice the way someone’s been eyeing him from across the room.

On the other side of the club, someone’s eyes have been narrowed down on Jaehyun all night. Doyoung can tell, because the person in question isn’t very subtle about his interest, talking to the person next to him and pointing in the direction of their booth. 

Jaehyun is either entirely uninterested, or too drunk to notice - perhaps a combination of both. Doyoung doesn’t blame him, only out here tonight to enjoy the booze his friends buy him, and to relax between demanding classes in university. Not that anyone’s eyeing him from across the room, but even if they were, he doesn’t think he’d be very interested either. 

“To Doyoung,” Jaehyun cheers, for maybe the fifth time that day, clashing their shot glasses together before he empties it. Doyoung drinks his own down, the liquid still bitter but miles better than it had been at the start of the night. 

Finishing another two shots, Doyoung gets up and scoots himself out of the booth, heading to the bathroom. 

When he returns, it’s no longer just Jaehyun and Johnny in their booth, the stranger that had been eyeing him from across the room all night is suddenly settled between Doyoung’s friends.

“Doyoung, this is Ten,” Jaehyun says, gesturing at the stranger - Ten. “He’s in one of Johnny’s philosophy classes.” 

Doyoung thinks _Ten_ could’ve told them anything at all and Jaehyun would have believed him, if the way they’re squished up together thigh to thigh is anything to go by. Someone’s brought more drinks, another row of shots lined up on the table - but Doyoung’s head is spinning a little too much to consider them right now. Must be his age getting to him. 

“Cool,” Doyoung says, casually dropping down on an empty end of the booth. He notices someone else then, standing by the side of their table, looking between Jaehyun and Ten with a furrowed brow.

“Hi,” Doyoung says to the stranger. 

“Hi,” they answer nervously, a breathy giggle escaping their lips. Unlike Ten they look sober, and nowhere near as delighted to be there. The stranger is dressed to fit in, a sheer black blouse with two buttons undone, tucked into leather pants that sit snug on his slim hips. 

A soft brush of highlighter is dusting his cheeks, eyes lined with a sharp black wing. His lips are a little pink, coated in something glossy that catches in the subdued lights from the club. 

Johnny says something that causes Ten to laugh noisily, so loud it catches Doyoung and the stranger’s attention.

Doyoung forgets about him, actually holding a conversation with Johnny, Jaehyun and their newfound friend throughout the rest of the night. Kind stranger stands by the booth, sometimes looking at Ten, but showing no actual interest in meddling into the conversation. 

Not until the last row of shots are finished and Ten’s laughing way too hard at anything Jaehyun says, making no effort to hide his ulterior motives, does Doyoung actually interrupt the conversation.

“I’m going to get some water,” he announces, eager to escape the sexual tension hanging in the booth. 

The stranger excuses himself too, trailing behind Doyoung over to the bar. 

“I didn’t catch your name,” Doyoung says after he asks the bartender for a glass of water.

“Taeyong,” the stranger says, giving Doyoung a name to the pretty face. 

“I’m Doyoung,” he says, taking the glass of water from the bartender. “Sorry, did you want anything?”

“No, I’m supposed to keep an eye on Ten tonight,” Taeyong declines, smiling shamefully as he looks over at the booth where Ten is being looked after more than well.

“Seems like Jaehyun’s got that covered,” Doyoung says.

“Oh he’s going for both,” Taeyong says.

Maybe if Doyoung squints enough he can make out how Ten is not only clinging to Jaehyun’s side, but also has one leg hooked over Johnny’s parted legs, the arch of his knee pressing into the inside of Johnny’s thigh. 

“Right,” Doyoung says, wishing he could unsee that. He doesn’t really care what or _who_ his roommates get up to, as long as he doesn’t have to see or hear it. “It’s _my_ birthday yet they’re the ones getting laid.” 

“I mean the night isn’t over yet,” Taeyong says. Doyoung frowns, tilting his head as he looks at Taeyong. “Not like that, not - well not _me_ , but like, there’s plenty of people in this club.” 

Doyoung is very much aware of the fact that they’re not alone here. He surveys the dance floor, scanning over people in various states of scarcely clad and drunk. He is attracted to exactly none of them, because he’s not the type to take home a stranger from a club.

It’s the total opposite of his roommates, but Doyoung doesn’t enjoy casual. Jaehyun says he’s stuck-up, but in reality he’s just too picky to satisfy himself with a stranger. Johnny likes to mock him, that he’s saving up his heart for a prince on a white horse that does not exist, but Doyoung isn’t _that_ naive. He’s not hoping for someone to sweep him off his feet, he just doesn’t enjoy casual. It’s a conclusion of trial and error, always coming up to find that the energy he has to put in it is never quite rewarding enough. 

Still, Taeyong indulges him. “What about her?” He asks, eyeing a brunette not too far away from them. She’s very much occupied in a conversation with her friend, looking like she has no interest in anyone that might try to talk to her. 

“Not a _her,_ ” Doyoung corrects him. 

Taeyong laughs, his brow scrunching up, little lines next to his eyes creasing as he smiles. He’s cute, but Doyoung is not sober and he’s not sure he’d admit that on a sober mind, so he holds his tongue.

“Okay, then what about him?” Taeyong says next, gesturing at another person. The guy in question is absolutely ripped, his v-neck stretching over too broad shoulders that narrow down into disproportionate slim hips. 

Doyoung laughs at this, “that is like, the furthest from my type.” 

“Okay, I’m just guessing - I can’t read your mind,” Taeyong laughs, putting his hands up in defense. “What about him then?” 

The third contender might actually have a shot. He’s dancing with someone else, tall and slim with a dark dress shirt tucked into dark pants and faint blue highlights in his hair that catch in the neon lights. His face is pretty, beautiful in a way that you can’t help but look twice. 

“He’s okay, I guess,” Doyoung offers, still not feeling any inclination to go over and talk to him. 

“Too bad, he’s my friend - and his boyfriend will take you in a fight,” Taeyong says. His attention is drawn to his phone then, frowning as he reads something.

“Well Ten just texted me that I’m going to have to spend the night somewhere else,” Taeyong says. 

“Oh,” Doyoung says, a little relieved to hear that, as it implies he will be able to spend the night at his place. “That sucks,” he adds nonetheless, seeing the way Taeyong’s big eyes get wider when he pouts.

“Just means I’ll sleep in the car, probably,” Taeyong says, “but it’s cold and I forgot to put in my blanket before we left.” 

“In the car?” Doyoung asks, eyes wide at the implication. “You have to sleep in the car? Outside?” 

“I don’t _have_ to - but our rooms are wall to wall and I won’t get any sleep in my room. And we have a garage so it’s technically not outside but-”

“You can stay with me,” Doyoung says without thinking, the words coming out so spontaneously he has no time to regret saying them. “I mean - you can sleep on the sofa, I have one, and I have central heating, and I can lend you a blanket.” 

Taeyong seems to consider this, and Doyoung wishes the lights in here were better so he could read his reaction.

“That’s really nice of you, thank you,” Taeyong says, accepting the invitation. 

Doyoung thinks perhaps Taeyong should have more reservations about sleeping on a strangers couch, but since his alternative is to sleep in the car - maybe there’s no room to be picky. 

They watch Ten, Jaehyun _and_ Johnny leave together, laughing a little when Jaehyun nearly walks into a pole, too distracted by Ten to look where he’s going. When they leave the club safe and well, Taeyong offers that they too should leave.

Taeyong drives them home, clearly just as sober as he promised, parking outside Doyoung’s building. There’s a little bit of hesitation in his eyes when Doyoung opens the door on the passenger side, so he patiently waits outside the car for Taeyong to get out.

“Sorry if this is weird,” Taeyong offers in the elevator up, “I don’t normally sleep on strangers' couches, I promise.” 

“It’s not weird. Your roommate sucks, you shouldn’t have to sleep in your car,” Doyoung says as he gets his keys out from his pocket, opening the door.

“But it’s your birthday, if you want someone else-” Taeyong tries in a light worried voice, nervously fiddling with the sleeves of his jacket as he stands outside of their door. 

“Taeyong,” Doyoung cuts him off, “it’s fine.” 

“Okay,” Taeyong agrees as Doyoung lets him in.

Of course their apartment is messy, living with two other men makes that inevitable. Still it’s not chaotic, just some clothes thrown over the back of a chair and one too many pairs of shoes scattered around the hallway. Besides that, Doyoung makes sure to keep it as clean as Jaehyun and Johnny will allow it, the house smelling faintly of the fresh lemon fragrance sticks placed on the window sill. 

“Sorry if it’s messy,” Doyoung says, showing Taeyong inside their small living room. 

“Don’t worry,” Taeyong assures him, “I’ve seen far worse.”

Doyoung snorts. “I’m just going to get changed, I’ll be right back.” 

Doyoung heads into his own bathroom, stripping out of the clothes he’d worn to the club and exchanging them for soft homewear, eager to get out of the tight fitted clothes. He grabs another college sweatshirt before returning to the living room, where Taeyong is standing a little hopelessly. 

“Do you want to change too?” Doyoung asks. Taeyong looks up like he’s been caught, eyes wide as he stares back at Doyoung. “You can borrow some clothes if you want.”

Taeyong seems to consider this, looking down at his choice of outfit for the night. Leather pants and mesh shirts don’t make for great nightwear with the way they’re sticking to his skin.

“Yeah, thanks, that’d be great,” Taeyong answers. Doyoung hands him the clothes, pointing in the direction of the bathroom. 

Taeyong looks ridiculous in Doyoung’s clothes, much too big on his lithe frame. He’s very small, but looks even tinier in the hoodie that belongs to Doyoung, draping over his shoulders and swallowing his hands up. The sweatpants hang baggily on his legs, a little comically large as they bunch over his feet - and Doyoung finds it endearing, a whole different Taeyong from the one he met at the club. 

“Can I have some water?” Taeyong asks then, pulling on the sleeves of his sweater in an attempt to draw them up.

Doyoung swallows a laugh - or something more embarrassing like actually _cooing_ at him. 

“Of course, take some from the fridge, it’s chilled,” Doyoung says, and Taeyong takes the liberty of getting it for himself.

“Oh,” he says when he opens the fridge. For a moment Doyoung is scared there’s something inappropriate in their fridge, like that one time temperature play enthusiast Jaehyun put his lube in there, or any other incriminating piece of evidence. “There’s cake!” Taeyong exclaims in excitement. 

Right. There’s also cake, a product of Doyoung’s self-pity on the way home from a lecture. He hadn’t actually planned on sharing the cake with Johnny or Jaehyun, fully convinced that being twenty years old gives you the luxury of consuming a whole cake by yourself. 

But Taeyong looks so excited with his big eyes and his cute pout looking down at the cake in Doyoung’s fridge. Doyoung might be glass-half-empty, but he’s not going to _crush_ a kind stranger that unfortunate circumstances brought to his apartment tonight.

“Would you like some?” Doyoung offers. Taeyong looks up at him, surprised but eager, nodding a little too enthusiastically.

“Please,” Taeyong adds, a faint blush on his cheeks. 

“Alright, let’s have some cake then,” Doyoung agrees. It _is_ his birthday after all, so it does warrant celebrations. 

They sit down by the coffee table together, Taeyong with his knees drawn up to his chest as he eyes the cake like it’s the best thing he’s seen all night. 

“Wait, it’s your birthday,” Taeyong says just as he’s about to pick up his fork. “You should have a candle - you need to make a wish.” 

Doyoung blinks, frowning as he contemplates Taeyong’s reasoning. Before he can object, Taeyong is reaching for the small tealight on the table, placing it between their plates as he gets a lighter out of his pocket. 

He reaches down to light the candle, beaming when it springs to life right in front of him. 

“How old are you?” Taeyong asks. 

“I just turned twenty,” Doyoung answers. 

“Oh… that’s a lot of candles…” he looks around Doyoung’s apartment like somewhere he’s stored another nineteen candles for this special occasion. “You’ll have to do with one, go ahead, close your eyes and blow it out.” 

Doyoung can’t help his shy smile, leaning forward to do as he’s told, the candle giving into his breath. 

“Make a wish,” Taeyong urges him on, an endearing undertone of excitement to his voice. 

Now if only Doyoung had something to wish for. If only there was something missing in his life, something that warranted the hope of a wish. But Doyoung has everything, friends and good academic records - all he could possibly be asking for right now. Wishing for better grades, or a roommate that puts his dirty laundry in the hamper doesn’t feel worthy of such a loaded promise. 

He has everything he wants, except for something like this. Someone that makes him light candles on his birthday, someone that makes him close his eyes to make a wish, someone that makes eating cake on his living room in the middle of the night feel special, someone that adds a small extra spark of happiness to his day. 

Someone like Taeyong. 

So he wishes for that, _someone_. 

He opens his eyes, finding Taeyong staring back at him in anticipation. 

“What did you wish for?” Taeyong asks, excited. 

“I can’t tell you, it’ll-” Doyoung starts, remembering well how these things go. 

“Right!” Taeyong says, grinning. “I was just testing you, you definitely shouldn’t tell me, it’ll jinx it.” 

They get to the cake then, Taeyong humming happily as he tastes it. “I love Lady Baltimore cake!” He says happily over a mouthful of whip cream. A small speck of it sticks to his upper lip, and Doyoung is about to tell him - but he looks way too cute with it. “I actually made one just the other day, for my cousin’s birthday party.”

“You bake?” Doyoung asks, a little dumbfounded by it - he doesn’t really know anyone that bakes in university, but perhaps that’s just his type of friends. 

“Yes,” Taeyong says, nodding. “I actually want to apply for pastry school once I get my degree.”

“Oh, that’s so cool - I would _kill_ to be your roommate, mine don’t come into the kitchen unless it’s to use the microwave,” Doyoung complains. 

Taeyong laughs. “I think Ten would like to trade, he always complains he’s gaining weight because I bring home too many pastries.” 

“I don’t think there’s such a thing as _too many_ pastries,” Doyoung objects, and Taeyong hums in agreement. 

“Right? He doesn’t know what he’s missing…” Taeyong says, sighing. “What do you do?” 

“Oh, nothing interesting, I major in business,” Doyoung explains, a little ashamed about the lack of creativity to his choice of major. 

“I’m sure it’s interesting enough to you if you choose to pursue it,” Taeyong says, and it shouldn’t weigh so heavy on Doyoung’s semi-drunk mind, but he still dwells on it a little too long. “I’m sorry by the way, it’s your birthday and you’re spending it here with me crashing on your couch.” 

“Don’t worry about that,” Doyoung says. “I’ve had worse people sleeping on my sofa.” 

“Worse?” Taeyong inquires, frowning. Their cake is finished, and he’s leaning back against the sofa, the cuffs of Doyoung’s sweatshirt falling down over his hands now, almost swallowing them whole. 

“Just not as pretty as you,” Doyoung says, the casual slip-up falling past his lips. He flushes when he realises what he’s said. “I mean, not as _pleasant_ as you. You’re not like, puking all over my floor, or ripping down my curtains to use as a blanket.” 

“The curtains?” Taeyong says with a scandalised frown. Clearly he feels just as passionate about household standards as Doyoung. 

“I’ll get you a blanket,” Doyoung reminds himself out loud. Even if Taeyong is opposed to the idea of using any other of Doyoung’s home textiles, he still doesn’t want him to feel cold at night. 

He takes one of his own favourite blankets, folded up neatly on the corner of his bed, something he only uses if it gets extra cold at night. It drapes over Taeyong perfectly, as he fits curled up on the sofa, resting his head on a decorated pillow.

“Just let me know if there’s anything else you need, okay?” Doyoung asks. “That one’s my room,” he gestures at the door, “I doubt Jaehyun or Johnny will come home, but you know, just in case.” 

“Thank you, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Taeyong says. Doyoung’s still looking at him, trying to piece together just how Taeyong is fitting on their couch, with his knees drawn up to his chest and just his head peeking out from under the blanket. “Goodnight.”

Doyoung’s a little startled by that, laughing nervously. “Yeah, uh - goodnight,” he agrees, before he disappears into his own room. 

**twenty-one**

Doyoung comes home late on his twenty first birthday, hurrying inside to escape the cold. It’s been a long day at the library, Jaehyun and Johnny bothering him by stopping by with a coffee late in the afternoon. As a result his project took even longer to complete, and he comes home much later than he’d hoped for. 

A familiar pair of shoes stand in the hallway and the guest slippers by the door are missing - at least he’s not alone tonight. 

He calls out for the only person he knows that has keys to his apartment. “Taeyong?” 

“In the kitchen,” Taeyong returns, and Doyoung sighs in relief, a warm giddy feeling settling in his chest as he puts on his own slippers and heads inside. 

The kitchen is lit up with candles, a couple of them standing on the dining table, covered in a cute red checkered tablecloth. On placemats stand two plates, empty wine glasses next to them. 

“Taeyong…” he says again, bewildered as he’s taking in the sight in front of him. In his tiny little kitchen, Taeyong somehow fits right in, wearing an apron tied around his waist where he stands by the stove. He’s successfully turned Doyoung’s tiny studio apartment kitchenette into a cut-out from an italian cuisine cliché. 

“Hey!” Taeyong says when he puts the spatula down, turning to Doyoung. His face breaks out into a big smile when their eyes meet, his small feet padding over to Doyoung and throwing his arms around his neck. 

“Hi,” Doyoung says, settling his hands around his waist as he hugs him back.

“Happy birthday baby!” Taeyong says when they pull away, reaching up to run a hand through Doyoung's hair, brushing past his cold ears. “Did you go out like this? It’s so cold outside.” 

Doyoung whines shamefully as Taeyong reaches up to put his hands over his cold ears, but closes his eyes to savour the feeling. 

“Kim Doyoung, twenty one years old, still not wise enough to keep himself warm,” Taeyong scolds him, giggling as he inches closer and presses their lips together, short and sweet. 

“What’s all this?” Doyoung asks when they pull away, eyeing the set table and the state of his kitchen. 

“It’s for your birthday,” Taeyong explains. 

For his birthday, Doyoung not only gets to spend the evening with his favourite person in the world, he also gets his favourite food and Taeyong’s undivided attention all throughout dinner. It’s just what he wanted after a long day of studying and missing his boyfriend, fearing that maybe he was slowly getting old enough to let birthdays be something casual. 

He feels anything but forgotten now, beaming when Taeyong tells him after dinner that he’s made a cake. 

It’s a perfect Red Velvet cake, layered with whipped cream and strawberries. On a particularly daring night Taeyong had managed to dig Doyoung’s favourite flavour of cake out of him - his best kept secret for Taeyong. Since then Red Velvet cake had become a treat for special occasions, such as his birthday.

“It’s so pretty,” Doyoung comments, looking at the small little marzipan roses that Taeyong’s placed on top of the cake, tiny details that really say so much about Taeyong’s eye for them. 

“Thank you,” Taeyong says, a hint of a blush to his cheeks. 

“You did so well baby,” Doyoung praises, “not just the cake, I mean, this whole evening has been so nice, thank you.” 

“Do you think that’s all?” Taeyong asks. “It’s like… ten pm, do you want me to go home?” 

It’s Doyoung’s turn to blush, biting his lips as he looks at his hands folded in his lap. “Well-” he stammers, heat flooding his chest. 

“Let’s eat first, okay?” Taeyong asks, getting out two little plates. 

Doyoung loves watching Taeyong admire his work, loves the way he bites his lip in concentration, narrowing his gaze down as he cuts the cake. He’s so beautiful when he’s enthralled by his own accomplishments, happy with the neat layers of the cake, the slice coming out just perfectly.

They eat together, making comfortable small talk as Taeyong feeds him little pieces of cake every now and then. 

Doyoung thinks back to one year ago, when he turned twenty and they were sitting back in the flat he shared with Jaehyun and Johnny. They had just met each other, virtually strangers, sharing the store bought cake that Doyoung had gotten himself out of pity, fearing he would have to go his whole birthday without it.

It had been a chance encounter that night, but it had turned into so much more. Initially they had only exchanged numbers because Taeyong didn’t want to change back into his old clothes, and Doyoung had offered he could return them later. He’d kept the number, which resulted in casual text messages and late night phone calls - eventually leading to their first date.

Falling for Taeyong had been easy for Doyoung, kind of like something he expected to happen. The more he learned about Taeyong the more he discovered about himself, realising that Taeyong was exactly what he wanted. Cute, sweet - so _kind_ that at times Doyoung felt that there must be a catch to Taeyong’s selflessness. The way Taeyong sees the world is the definition of _rose-coloured glasses_ , everything wonderful and enthralling, a true sight to behold. Every single time Doyoung stops by his apartment to bring him something sweet, he gets so flustered in his gratefulness that he blushes all the way up to his ears. Doyoung is so infatuated by it, that the trips to Taeyong’s apartment become more frequent, until they decide they might as well put a name to that. Doyoung has not even been twenty for more than three months when he and Taeyong become _boyfriends_. 

Being Taeyong’s boyfriend comes with the threatening promise of receiving baked goods way too often, but most importantly Taeyong’s inexhaustible love and affection. He’s so open in who he cherishes, always has the right words to say to Doyoung that make _him_ blush, never afraid to voice how he feels. Where Doyoung is a tedious overthinker Taeyong was just the right amount of cheerful and spontaneous to soothe any doubts he might have.

Doyoung knows he’s assertive and doesn’t really _let_ things happen to him, he searches out what he wants and pursues that. His friends call it picky, but Doyoung feels more like he’s just _waiting_. He’s waited for so long, saved up his heart for someone like Taeyong who isn’t afraid to take it, even if it can be overwhelming and at times a little scary. He had opened up to Taeyong so easily, telling him things he’d never dare tell anyone else, their relationship blooming so easily his friends kept asking if it wasn’t too fast. 

It wasn’t, because Doyoung just _knew_. It sounded love blinded and foolish, but Doyoung felt so comfortable around Taeyong, almost like it was destined that they found each other that night. Doyoung’s twentieth birthday turned into a serendipitous chance encounter, bringing him Taeyong. His Taeyong, the most important person in his life, the one that makes him feel so much happiness. Together they are a perfect fit, something so easily sneaking into Doyoung’s life and making itself a permanent presence. 

Something that he a year later can’t imagine going without. 

“You have some cake,” Taeyong hums, reaching out to swipe his thumb across Doyoung’s lips. 

Doyoung looks at him coyly, swiping his tongue over Taeyong’s thumb to lick off the little speck of buttercream. Taeyong’s lips part in surprise, letting out a startled little noise. Doyoung can see him shuffle nervously in his seat, his thighs clamping together as he stares at Doyoung’s lips. 

“Oh,” he says, dropping the fork he was holding. Doyoung can practically _see_ his thought process, the way arousal dawns on his beautiful cheeks, flush spreading across his face until he’s biting his lip in anticipation. 

Taeyong tastes like sugar when Doyoung kisses him, the sweet taste he always relates to Taeyong. He’s been so conditioned into the reaction that eating something sweet automatically makes him think of Taeyong, and that treats that come without Taeyong’s kisses are disappointing. 

This one definitely isn’t, Taeyong humming happily as he kisses Doyoung back and inches closer to him. They’re sitting on the small sofa in Doyoung’s living room, Taeyong’s knee pressing into Doyoung’s thigh from the lack of space. 

When Taeyong finds enough confidence to lick into Doyoung’s mouth, he urges him back, rearranging them until he’s sitting in Doyoung’s lap. His hands run through Doyoung’s hair, tilting his head just to make the push and pull of their lips a little more comfortable. 

Doyoung sighs happily, letting himself be guided by Taeyong's soft lips and teasing hands. Carefully he trails his fingers down Taeyong’s side, teasing the fabric of his shirt until he nudges underneath it, stroking his bare skin. 

Startled by Doyoung’s touch, Taeyong surges forward, pressing their bodies together until they run out of space, slowly canting his hips down into Doyoung’s lap. A soft “ah” spills from his lips, a noise Doyoung swallows up greedily. 

Taeyong pulls away, a little breathless as he looks into Doyoung’s eyes. 

“Happy birthday,” he whispers, this time a whole different implication behind the words. It’s so far from the Taeyong in apron that had welcomed him home in the kitchen; but it’s also what he loves so much about him, the contrasts of Taeyong and how shy and reserved can turn needy.

Doyoung murmurs a thank you against his lips, hands coming down to wrap around Taeyong’s thighs before he stands up. Taeyong gasps against Doyoung’s mouth, clinging to his shoulders as Doyoung carries him into his bedroom.

Curled up in bed with Taeyong safely tucked away in his arms he thinks back to one year ago, when Taeyong was merely a stranger that he’d just met. A stranger that he, by chance, let into his house and sleep on his sofa. It wasn’t planned like everything else in Doyoung’s life, just a piece of luck handed to him, a decision that happened to be one of the best he’d ever made. Taeyong’s made him do a lot more unplanned things, spontaneous dates and late night walks and everything in between that makes him feel like Taeyong is that piece he had been asking for when Taeyong told him to make a wish. 

**twenty-two**

On Doyoung’s twenty second birthday he’s alone. His apartment is quiet and he’s spent the entire day in his loungewear, trying to revise for some of his lectures, but admittedly more distracted than he is actually working. It _is_ his birthday, but that’s not what is distracting him right now. It’s the fact that it’s his birthday and Taeyong hasn’t messaged or called at all. He knows he hasn't forgotten, knows that his birthday is marked in Taeyong’s personal planner with a cute doodle of a bunny next to it and that he is choosing to ignore him.

Doyoung is in no position to ask for anything else, because they haven’t talked in over a week. They haven’t said a word to each other since Taeyong walked out on him one late Thursday evening, with no intention to make amends. 

They hadn’t fought like that before. They had disagreements and sometimes Taeyong did all the things that got on Doyoung’s nerves, but they always talked it out before it could escalate.

Always, except for this time. 

It had been brewing for a while. Doyoung was busy working on his exams while preparing for his thesis next year. Taeyong had been working two part-time jobs to save up enough money to apply for pastry school, and in between all of that they hadn’t seen much of each other. 

The physical absence was filled in with text messages, most nights ending in phone calls that either of them would fall asleep to. Doyoung hated having _just_ that, and he’d been planning for weeks to change it, singling out a single night that they’d both have time off, a _date night_. 

Said date night had been planned meticulously. Doyoung had searched out a movie they both wanted to watch, noted down Taeyong’s take-out order from his favourite restaurant. He’d gotten everything ready, cleaned up the living room and arranged the pillows on the sofa to look nicer, taken out Taeyong’s favourite blanket, put that cheap corner store wine in the fridge, even lit two candles on the coffee table. All that was missing was Taeyong.

He texted Taeyong, asking when he was coming. Doyoung knew he was a time optimist and struggled sticking to his schedule as it was, so he didn’t think anything of it if he was running a little late. 

Not until he received that dreadful text message an hour after the time they’d set to meet.

**im so sorry i can’t make it tonight i had to take up another shift**

Doyoung stared at his phone, waiting for the ‘just kidding’ to appear on screen, or for the keys to click in the door and let Taeyong in.

Taeyong knew how important that night was. He was just as excited as Doyoung for tonight, texting in between their busy schedules to talk about how much he was looking forward to this one night, finally a few hours where they could just be together. 

Cancelling on Doyoung with a text message was so unlike Taeyong. It had felt comically lax compared to the expectations Doyoung had of tonight, like a blow to the gut as Doyoung read the message again and again, slowly sensing the severity of it. 

Taeyong wasn’t coming. He’d called off yet another night - one night that they’d planned to make up for all the other missed nights. The irony was sickening, Doyoung looking at the text message bitterly.

He did not answer Taeyong’s text message, deeming it pointless to start an argument through text where they can only misunderstand one another more.

Instead he waited for Taeyong, either for his text message or for him to come by Doyoung’s door. The text message didn’t come - and by the time Doyoung had gotten tired of watching reruns of dramas and eating ice cream out of the tub, he gave up hope altogether, thinking Taeyong really cancelled on him. 

Just when he was about to call it a night and head to bed in defeat, he heard the key twist in the lock. He held his breath as he waited out the footsteps that came into his apartment.

Taeyong stood in the doorway, backpack in hand, hair windswept, bags under his eyes a little heavier than the last time he saw him. He looked worn out and Doyoung’s first instinct had been to go up and hug him, try to soothe away some of the fatigue in his system, but then he recalled the texts and the candles that were about to die and he bit his tongue. 

“I don’t know why I came here,” Taeyong admitted, a little out of breath. His cheeks were pink from the cold, the only sign of life on his pale face. 

“You’re only four hours late,” Doyoung said, eyeing the clock on the wall.

“Doyoung, I’m sorry-” Taeyong tried to apologise, but Doyoung had heard it a million times before and he knew Taeyong better, knew that if he were really sorry he would start making better decisions. 

“Are you?” Doyoung cut him off.

“Doyoung, please,” Taeyong asked, looking at him with those big pleading eyes. 

It was cruel, because Doyoung is so weak for that, and going against Taeyong’s soft but tired devastating glance was not easy. Still, he was not doing it for himself or for their relationship but for Taeyong, because the way he looked right there, that was the most devastating thing. 

“I just - the late evening shift pays really well and I need the money.”

“How many late evening shifts have you taken this week?” 

Taeyong flinched under the question, and Doyoung knew what that meant all too well. His heart ached with fondness, and he wanted so badly to wrap Taeyong up in his arms and shower him in love and attention, ensuring he gets the sleep he needs. Still he knew that would not help, and knew Taeyong had to start taking care of himself better in order for Doyoung’s efforts to be worthwhile. 

“Just four, but I slept like _all day_ yesterday, before I had work,” Taeyong pointed out. 

“Do you even hear yourself?” Doyoung posed, running his hand through his hair. “I haven’t seen you in _two weeks_ , and you’ve barely messaged or talked to me.” 

“Doyoung I worked fifty hours this week _and_ my classes-”

“Fifty hours?” Doyoung exclaimed, “you know a fulltime job is forty hours. This is not healthy.” 

“That’s easy for you to say,” Taeyong said, “you have your scholarship and your tuition covered, but I _don’t,_ I have to work for everything, I have to do it all by myself.” 

“You won’t let anyone help you!” 

“I don’t _need_ your help Doyoung!” Taeyong yelled. “I just need you to be a little understanding of what I want, and how I feel.” 

“I’ve been nothing but understanding, but I can’t watch you waste away like this, it hurts me when you come here looking like this!” 

“Oh it hurts you? Well I’m sorry if it inconveniences you,” Taeyong bit out, “here, take these, I only spent half of my night making them for you. But I guess you don’t appreciate that _either_.” 

Taeyong slammed down the white plastic bag on the counter, before he promptly turned on his heel.

“Don’t-” Doyoung wanted to ask him not to leave, if only because he looked so _crushed_ and he didn’t want Taeyong walking home late at night like that. 

“I shouldn’t have come here,” Taeyong said again, this time as he opened the door. He looked back at Doyoung from the doorway, something breaking inside Doyoung’s chest before he watched Taeyong slam the door behind him.

It’s been a week since Taeyong slammed the door like that. A week of Doyoung thinking, hoping that Taeyong would come to him first, that he would try to make amends. Deep down he knew Taeyong was stubborn - but Doyoung was logical, and in his mind he had every right to still be mad. He wanted to help Taeyong so badly, but Taeyong refused to help himself which made it all that much more difficult. For weeks on end he had tried to take care of him, make sure to feed him, assure he got plenty of sleep during the nights, but it didn’t help. 

All the fixing up Doyoung did served as an invitation for Taeyong to work himself to the bone again, and that night would not have been any different, if it hadn’t escalated into this. 

This - one week of no Taeyong, of worrying about Taeyong, of stopping by the café he worked at to catch a glimpse of him. One week of balling his fist in his pocket as he walked past, telling himself that Taeyong needed to realise for himself what he was doing wrong. 

Now here Doyoung was, twenty two years old and still not old enough to make amends. Not even on his birthday, when he was so lonely the ache for Taeyong was worse than ever. Jaehyun had offered to stop by and bring some cake to celebrate, but Doyoung didn’t want cake because it would make him think of Taeyong. And Jaehyun wouldn’t want to be here at all, because Doyoung’s birthday is not only his birth anniversary as well as the anniversary of when he first met Taeyong, it’s also Jaehyun’s anniversary of when he first got together with his boyfriends. Doyoung didn’t want to be pitied anymore on his birthday, so he’d politely declined the invitation.

He was regretting it a little, as he had spent the entire day fretting in his loneliness, thinking he was quite pathetic for not having anything better to do on his birthday than _mope_. 

After ordering take out (which sucked, he couldn’t even sneak a bite from Taeyong’s order), he curls up on the sofa watching yet another rerun of some sad drama. He checks his phone every now and then, messages from friends and family wishing him a good day, ironically unaware of how shit this birthday is.

When the night falls he thinks he might as well give up. It’s late, he has classes tomorrow - and Taeyong is not going to magically appear on his doorstep. He’s not even going to call. His boyfriend of three years is going to let his birthday go unnoticed. 

He could reach out himself, but Doyoung is not only petty, he is also scared of saying the wrong thing. He’s afraid that this is the start of the end, that this fight only served to bend and that the next one - that’s where they break. So he doesn’t want to provoke it, doesn’t want to get caught up in something even worse, so it’s better if he doesn’t contact Taeyong.

Sighing to himself, he puts his phone back on the table and heads into the bathroom, brushing his teeth to get ready for bed. 

Just as he flicks off the light in the bathroom, he hears the doorbell ring.

It’s strange - he’s not expecting visitors, and Taeyong would have let himself in, because he has keys after all. 

Except Taeyong doesn’t have keys - or he doesn’t feel like he could use them right now. He stands in front of Doyoung’s door, hair soaked, dripping down on the doormat as Doyoung opens the door.

“Hey,” Taeyong says softly. Just hey, no sorry or happy birthday. Just hello. 

And he still has him, Doyoung’s face softening as he pulls Taeyong inside. He’s drenched from head to toe. 

“You’re going to catch a cold like that,” Doyoung scolds, helping Taeyong out of the drenched jacket. It falls to the floor limply, Taeyong standing there staring at it with his wet hair, droplets running down to his shirt. “I’ll get you something to wear.” 

Doyoung returns with a pair of Taeyong’s sweatpants that had ended up in his laundry and a big warm sweatshirt that is his own. Taeyong has no inhibitions, stripping off his wet clothes and exchanging them for dry ones right there in Doyoung’s hallway. There is nothing enticing to his state of undress, Doyoung taking in the pained expression on his face as he shucks off his clothes.

“Are you okay?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” Taeyong agrees, “I’m fine - just cold, and wet.” 

“Alright come in then, do you want some tea to warm up?” 

Taeyong hums, and Doyoung retreats into the kitchen to make two cups of tea, setting them out on the coffee table in front of Taeyong. He’s wrapped up in a blanket, drying his wet hair with a towel, thanking Doyoung quietly.

He sits down on the other end of the sofa, their legs tangling somewhere in the middle.

“I’m sorry,” Taeyong says. “About last time, I’m really sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean it, I don’t think you’re entitled or spoiled or have things easier… you just choose easier things.” 

It sounds like he’s crunched on the words forever, trying and trying to make them capsule exactly how he feels, exactly what he’s sorry for. Doyoung considers them, but they’re so far from what he’s been struggling with for over a week now. He doesn’t care if Taeyong calls him entitled, he knows he’s not wrong. He works hard to keep his scholarship and while he puts in a lot of effort, it’s repaid in ways Taeyong’s could never be for the same, if not more, labour. 

“I'm sorry for working so much, I don’t want to - but I need the money,” Taeyong explains. 

“You don’t have to apologise for that, Taeyong,” Doyoung says, sighing. “I know you work hard to help yourself, and that you don’t like accepting help because you think you don’t deserve it, but that’s not true baby. You _do_ deserve it.” 

Taeyong bites his lip as he gazes up at Doyoung.

“I just feel so inadequate,” Taeyong says, deflating with a sigh. “I feel like no matter how hard I work I’ll never get there.”

“Then let me help you, at least let me make sure you eat and get enough sleep.” 

“I don’t want to be your baby, Doyoung. I can take care of myself,” Taeyong whines. 

“If you’re not a baby then why do you still whine like one?” Doyoung asks. 

Taeyong smiles at him, laughing for a moment. 

“Still, I can take care of myself,” Taeyong says on a more serious note. “It’s just hard right now, with _everything_.” 

It _is_ hard right now. It’s difficult for Taeyong but it is for Doyoung too. Watching Taeyong work so many hours until he looks like a ghost of his former self is painful, and his attempts to take off some of the worry of his shoulders are unsuccessful.

Whenever Doyoung offers to cook for him, or invites him to sleep at his place since it’s close to work, Taeyong says he doesn’t want to be a bother. In reality Doyoung knows Taeyong is scared of being vulnerable, scared of admitting that he’s stuck and that maybe he’s taken on more than he can handle. The deadlines for school applications are coming up and Taeyong is so set on applying to a new, better school that he will do anything to get there, even if that means working sixty hours on top of his classes. Anyone would say it’s foolish, and then there’s Taeyong who thinks that giving up would mean giving up on himself. 

Doyoung can only assume that’s what’s driving him to this, because Taeyong doesn’t talk about it. Not with Doyoung or with Ten or with anyone else, he sets goals for himself and keeps to them by himself. Doyoung can’t help him when he won’t talk about it - or when he’s so adamant on not accepting help. 

One evening when Taeyong was dropping by his place after work, Doyoung had casually suggested Taeyong might as well move in. It would save him a lot on living expenses, and since he refused to accept financial help from Doyoung, it would be a good middle ground in that argument. 

And Taeyong had laughed that off, joking he would become too lazy if he let himself be pampered by Doyoung every night. 

Which left them here, Taeyong threadbare and shivering on his couch and Doyoung conflicted with guilt, longing and most of all _worry_.

“Tell me about everything,” Doyoung says, offering him an opportunity to talk about it. 

Taeyong clears his throat, holding his cup of tea in his lap, before he takes up on Doyoung’s offer. 

“Work is so much, I know I’m taking on too many hours but I thought if I could just save up enough money then applying for schools would be easy. I had my entry exam this week and the things I baked - they were all shit, they all looked bad because I hadn’t slept the night before, and my hands were shaking when I prepared them and I put in salt instead of sugar into one of my batters and they said it was _terrible_ ,” Taeyong says, all in one breath, tears rimming his lashes. “They said it was terrible but that they knew I could do better and that I should take a break, apply again at the end of next semester.” 

“Oh Taeyong,” Doyoung breathes out, feeling his chest flood with Taeyong’s pain. 

“And then it’s your birthday, and I was going to surprise you with, well - it doesn’t matter, because you can’t even look at me without _pity_ , and I don’t want that. I love you so much and I love it when you’re always right and tell me what to do, and I love _not_ listening to you and bickering about it, but I can’t do that now, not when you can’t look at me without worrying, I’m not a stray you’re taking in just to feed and pity.” 

“Taeyong…” he breathes, staring at him open mouthed. “You’re not - I don’t think of you like that at all, you know that’s not…” 

But as Doyoung says it, he realises that Taeyong is right. Lately whenever he sees Taeyong or talks to Taeyong, it’s all he can see, the bags under his eyes or how much weight he’s lost. He doesn’t think of the Taeyong he fell in love with, because maybe he foolishly thinks they’re not the same person. 

Except they are. Taeyong is like this, he’s dedicated and he works hard and nothing will stop him. It’s one of the things that he fell in love with, Taeyong’s willpower and his drive for his own ambitions, something so wonderful to the way Taeyong is unrelenting until he gets what he wants. Taeyong is independent, but it doesn’t make him selfish - it makes Doyoung want him even more. 

“You’re so strong, baby, I could never see you _just_ like that, and I’m sorry if I made you feel like that.” 

“I know you mean well and that just makes it worse,” Taeyong admits, and he’s crying even harder now, every other word laced with a sniffle.

“Come here,” Doyoung urges, gesturing for Taeyong to come closer. He’s there in a heartbeat, draping himself over Doyoung’s lap as he sobs into his arms. 

This is hard for him, Doyoung knows it is. He doesn’t show that he’s weak, not even here in the safe privacy of Doyoung’s home. Not even when he’s crying in Doyoung’s arms. So Doyoung doesn’t say anything, let’s him weep into his arms and holds him together through it, even if he knows he doesn’t need to. 

“Sorry,” Taeyong murmurs, voice heavy and laced with tears. “Sorry for shutting you out, I never wanted that.” 

“Don’t apologise,” Doyoung says, leaning up to kiss his forehead. “I’m sorry for not being there for you, not in the way you wanted me to be.”

“You shouldn’t apologise either,” Taeyong tells him. “But if your offer still stands, I would really like to spend the night here, since it’s _closer to work and all_ ,” Taeyong mocks him. 

Doyoung bites his lip, fingers playing with the fabric of the sweatshirt Taeyong has on. 

“I’m sorry - you know that’s _not_ why I want you to spend the night,” Doyoung admits sheepishly, pressing his face into Taeyong’s neck to hide. 

“Really?” Taeyong asks, chuckling. He pulls away a little, resting his hands around Doyoung’s neck as he gazes down into Doyoung’s eyes. “I’ve missed you,” he murmurs, leaning his forehead down against Doyoung’s.

Doyoung’s heart seizes, feeling Taeyong’s soft breath on his lips. 

“I missed you too,” Doyoung whispers back. His hands slide up over Taeyong’s hips before he leans up and slots their lips together. Taeyong tastes sweet like always, his lips soft as they press against Doyoung’s. It feels like too long since they’ve done this, and Doyoung feels like he has so much to make up for, eagerly kissing him, grabbing Taeyong’s hips a little tighter to inch him closer.

Taeyong whines against his mouth, spreading his legs further to slide down Doyoung’s lap until they’re chest to chest, pressed together in every possible way. He pulls away from Doyoung’s mouth to kiss down to his neck, brushing his lips over the column of his throat before he licks over a certain spot, nibbling his teeth against it. 

“Fuck,” Doyoung breathes, hiding his face in the crook of Taeyong’s neck. “You literally just made me cry Taeyong, I’m getting emotional whiplash.” 

“Just shut up and kiss me,” Taeyong asks, cupping Doyoung’s jaw to press their lips together, soft and full of resolve. It settles all the worry in his chest, knowing that they’ve patched it up now - the best birthday gift he could’ve asked for. 

Tonight he’ll love Taeyong and he’ll try not to see spaces between his ribs or notice the thinness of his wrist, he’ll just love Taeyong like it’s the love of his life. Just tonight he’ll allow himself to have that, and together they’ll work out the rest. 

**twenty-three**

Turning twenty three has got to be one of the worst birthdays of Doyoung’s life. The night before he talks to Taeyong through a hushed video call where Taeyong is afraid he’ll wake his roommate up if he does anything but whisper. 

“I’m sorry I can’t be there,” Taeyong apologises for the fiftieth time. Each time he sounds just as genuine, so upset that he can’t be with Doyoung tomorrow. 

“Don’t be sorry, it’s just a birthday,” Doyoung dismisses him for the fiftieth time. Taeyong couldn’t help it, the flights home were expensive and too time consuming for Taeyong’s schedule.

When Taeyong had brought up the opportunity of going to pastry school abroad, Doyoung had not been as excited as him. He’d been a little scared, reluctant to let Taeyong go, something so permanent in his life suddenly slipping away, becoming just a phone call or a text message. 

His apprehension had lasted all of five minutes before he realised how horribly selfish he was, and how Taeyong’s ambitions and happiness should factor more into the decision than _anything_ Doyoung could ever come up with. Taeyong had done everything right, asked him before he considered applying, discussed the possibilities of it - what would it be like if they were countries apart? But Doyoung didn’t need to think about it too much, the terms and conditions were just practicalities they would figure out over time. Taeyong’s infectious smile was the highlight of Doyoung’s day, and he’d rather see it through a phone screen than not at all, and that’s all he needed to know. 

So he’d actually encouraged Taeyong to go, sharing the excitement of the big opportunity for him. Taeyong had been surprised, but so infinitely grateful for Doyoung’s support that it had been the final push to send in his application.

When he’d received the letter of acceptance they’d celebrated together, and while the idea of grainy video calls had been in the back of his mind, it wasn’t something Doyoung worried about then - he was only happy for Taeyong. 

Taeyong had moved his stuff into Doyoung’s apartment over the summer, the presence of the plushies and other little things a constant reminder of Taeyong. He didn’t even need to be physically present to have Doyoung waking up with a smile in the morning, the shark plushie in his bed evidence enough that while Taeyong was away, he hadn’t really left. 

“I’ll be busy tomorrow anyways, I have a meeting with my professor. Happy birthday to me,” Doyoung says, sighing. “At least I have dinner to look forward to.” 

“I’m so jealous, I wish I could go with you,” Taeyong says. 

“I wish that too, I’m going to be third wheeling on my birthday, _fourth_ wheeling actually,” Doyoung whines. At least the restaurant is nice, something Jaehyun hasn’t shut up about for days. He and Johnny know the owner, so they’d arranged something special for Doyoung as a birthday gift. 

“I’m sure they’ll spare you,” Taeyong says, chuckling. “I actually have to go, I need to get up early tomorrow, but I’ll call you before you head out to dinner, alright?”

Doyoung’s a little disappointed to see him go, but knows that Taeyong works a lot of early morning shifts at a local bakery before he goes to classes, and he feels bad keeping him awake for selfish reasons.

“Of course,” Doyoung says, leaning a little closer to the screen, “sleep well baby.”

“Goodnight Doie, I love you,” Taeyong says, waving at the camera before he hangs up. Doyoung goes to bed, thinking age has really caught up with him. He falls asleep almost right away, none of that pre-birthday anticipation sitting in his system. 

The next day he wakes up to a text message from Taeyong with a too early timestamp, wishing him a happy birthday, finished with a lot of flowery emojis and an ‘I miss you’ in capital letters. He sends a thank you as a reply, but it doesn’t even get delivered as Taeyong’s phone is turned off. 

The day drags by, the meeting with his professor not half bad. He expected it to be worse, but they’re happy with his work, and if he keeps this up he might be able to graduate with good references from his thesis advisors. 

In the evening Johnny stops by his apartment, picking him up to go out for dinner. When Johnny spots him in his bland white sweater, he scolds him, directing him right back into his bedroom to put on something more fashionable. They’re going to a high end restaurant after all, and Doyoung looks like he might very well be going for a drive through. 

Doyoung agrees with some objection, arguing that there’s no point in dressing up if he doesn’t get to see Taeyong - he doesn’t dress up for himself, after all. But Johnny tells him to stop being a baby, that he’s twenty-three years old now and should learn to accept social etiquette. Doyoung tells Johnny that he’s a great pain in his life, even at twenty-three years old, but gets changed either way. 

The restaurant is kind of fancy, white table cloths and waiters dressed in sleek black suits. They’re led to a table where Ten and Jaehyun are already sitting, happily waving them in. 

Both Ten and Jaehyun wish him a happy birthday, hugging him before they tell him to take a seat. They’re being a bit awkward about it, looking back and forth between the kitchen and their table, but letting it slide once Johnny too takes a seat in between his boyfriends. 

He doesn’t actually have to order anything, the entire meal planned ahead. It’s a four course meal, and by the time Johnny’s finishing up the bottle of red wine that went with the main course, Doyoung thinks he’s eaten so much he won’t be able to walk home. 

“You’re going to want dessert,” Ten points out as he pours Doyoung the last glass, scolding Johnny for doing it in the most mannerless way. 

“What’s for dessert?” Doyoung asks. 

Jaehyun snorts, and Ten elbows him in the side, hissing something under his breath that Doyoung doesn’t quite catch. The waiter stops by to pick up some of their empty glasses, asking if they want another bottle of wine. Doyoung’s about to say no, thinking they’ve had more than enough - but Johnny beats him to it. 

“We’ll have some champagne,” he asks, and Doyoung frowns.

“Champagne, for what occasion?” He asks. 

“It’s your birthday, silly,” Johnny says, patting him on the shoulder comfortably. 

Doyoung doesn’t really buy that either, his friends acting suspicious all night. At first he thought it was a _them_ problem, that they’d had an argument just before, but they weren’t hostile with each other at all. Instead, every interaction with anyone outside their table felt a little stiff. Jaehyun in particular is terrible at hiding something, hence why he probably sits the furthest away from Doyoung. 

Still, he doesn’t have much of a choice but to trust his friends. They hadn’t specified what’s after dinner, perhaps they’re going out celebrating - although Doyoung doubts he can do much more after this. 

When the table is cleared a bottle of champagne is served in a wine cooler, staying chilled until their dessert comes in. Ten and Jaehyun keep _laughing_ , Johnny the only one keeping a straight face as he glares down at his boyfriends, and Doyoung is just about to tell them to stop being gross when his dessert is placed in front of him. 

It’s a small cupcake, red velvet with a neat swirl of buttercream, a little marzipan rose on the side of it. There’s a single candle tucked on top of it, alight just for Doyoung’s birthday. It all looks oddly familiar, just like the wrist of the waiter that’s leaning over him to serve it. 

He follows the arm with his gaze, looking over his shoulder to see who it is.

Taeyong. 

Doyoung feels a mixture of shock, relief and happiness when he sees him, a warmth spreading in his chest as he stares at him in disbelief. 

Seconds later he’s getting to his feet, nearly knocking the chair back, and throwing his arms around Taeyong’s shoulders to hug him. He holds him close, faintly hearing his friends laughing in the background, but everything else blurring out to just the two of them, holding each other. He nuzzles his nose into Taeyong’s neck, inhaling the sweet scent of sugar that he always carries, closing his eyes and sighing in relief to finally have that back, to finally have him home again. 

“Taeyong,” he says after a moment, pulling away to get a good look at him, make sure it’s really him and that his eyes aren’t deceiving him. “You’re here - oh my god, I can’t believe it - what are you doing here?” he searches out Taeyong’s small hands, holding them in his as he looks at him expectantly.

“Happy birthday,” Taeyong whispers, smiling before his eyes flutter shut and he’s leaning into kiss him, soft and slow, the warmth of summer air and a million butterflies erupting in Doyoung’s chest. 

“How are you here suddenly.. I… I don’t understand,” Doyoung asks when they pull apart. Ten has pulled up another chair to the table for Taeyong to sit, and they do so if only to stop making a scene in the middle of the restaurant. 

“I’m here for a job interview actually,” Taeyong admits, “I got here just this morning - and well, they hired me! I’m starting as soon as I finish school in two months. Johnny thought it would be a good idea to surprise you.”

As if Doyoung couldn’t be anymore surprised, he stares at Taeyong, jaw dropping. 

“Here? You’re coming back?” Doyoung asks. 

“Yeah, just two more months baby,” Taeyong promises, putting his arm around Doyoung’s shoulder while he presses a kiss to the side of Doyoung’s head. 

“That’s amazing…” Doyoung says, still a little bit overwhelmed by all of it. “Congratulations, I can’t believe you just-” _here_. Taeyong is just here, right here next to him, living and breathing, no more poor quality video calls, no more months of longing, or text messages full of hurt and ‘i miss you’s’, just _here_. There’s nothing complicated about it anymore, no nagging selfish feelings in the back of his mind longing for Taeyong to come back. Taeyong is _here._

“This is the best birthday gift I’ve ever had,” Doyoung says, not just to Taeyong who is holding his hand under the table, but to all of them around the table.

“Told you there’s something worth celebrating,” Johnny remarks, before he grabs the champagne from the wine cooler. He pops the cork, gracelessly hitting the ceiling before it foams over to stain the table cloth. Doyoung would care, but he’s too busy looking at Taeyong to scold Johnny for it.

“You knew?” Doyoung asks, looking at any of the three for answers. 

“Taeyong called me and told me about the interview,” Ten says. “Jaehyun worked out everything else, always the romantic.” 

Jaehyun flushes under Ten’s words. “Well, I just thought you’d like the surprise - it’s your birthday after all.” 

“The restaurant was my idea,” Johnny pipes up, “so was the champagne. So let’s have some.” 

Doyoung enjoys the champagne, and his dessert - but it doesn’t even come close to how much he enjoys Taeyong, and how his skin is crawling just to enjoy Taeyong even more. The way he’d just kissed him was nothing but public friendly, and it hadn’t even taken the edge off the burning in his chest, yearning to kiss Taeyong until his breath runs out and his head is spinning with it. 

Doyoung loves his friends and all that they’ve done for him, but really he’s running on the last bit of patience when they cheer to his birthday one last time, each with a glass of champagne. 

They part ways not much later, and Doyoung is _just_ patient enough to walk home with Taeyong, losing all resolve when the elevator doors close behind them. He pushes Taeyong against the wall, cornering him in with his body as he grabs his face to kiss him, angling his jaw up to steal his lips again and again. He hasn’t kissed him in so long, yet it feels comforting, just like how he remembers. His chest floods with the same kind of need, the same kind of longing he always feels when he gets to kiss Taeyong like this, when Taeyong is so willing and pliant under him as he kisses back tugging on Doyoung’s jacket to inch him in closer. 

Outside their apartment Taeyong shoves him against the door, licking into his mouth until Doyoung’s choking back a moan. He roams through the pockets of Doyoung’s jacket until he grabs the keys, sneaking his hand around Doyoung to press it into the lock, all the while not losing Doyoung’s mouth for a single moment.

The door falls open behind Doyoung, the two stumbling in. His place is tidy as ever, leaving a free path into the bedroom as Taeyong yanks Doyoung’s jacket off his shoulders, ridding himself of his own as well. They kiss all the way to the bedroom, Taeyong breathing needily into his mouth when Doyoung’s hands tug on his sides to manhandle him onto bed.

They only pull apart for Doyoung to get his shirt off, pulling it right over his head, too impatient to take apart the buttons one by one, his attention turned right back to Taeyong. Taeyong’s shark plushie is still resting on the other side of the bed, and Doyoung reaches out to push it out of the way, clearing the space for Taeyong to stretch out on. Taeyong doesn’t even care that it lands abandoned on the floor, crawling up the bed far enough to stretch his legs out, parting them for Doyoung to settle in between. 

Doyoung’s restless to get his hands on Taeyong, even if they’ve got all night now. He touches him with the same kind of vigor as back in the elevator, so eager to get him out of his clothes. It’s been so long since he’s kissed him, months of missing loaded being every brush of their lips. He kisses him until he forgets how much he’s missed him, until all his senses are overwhelmed by everything Taeyong and he knows he’ll never let go. 

**twenty-four**

When Doyoung turns twenty-four, he feels like he has the first _adult_ birthday of his life. He wakes up in the morning to an alarm going off, knowing he has a whole day of work ahead of him, and nothing about it says it’s his birthday. 

It’s like any other morning, and Taeyong has a job to get to just like Doyoung. They both have responsibilities that prevent them from spending the morning in bed together, no matter how tempting it is when Taeyong kisses him awake. He tries to convince Taeyong to stay just a little longer, but it’s a cruel request because it means they’ll both be late. 

They go through their morning routines effortlessly, becoming a well rehearsed play at this point. Doyoung will turn on the coffee maker first, before going back into their bedroom to get changed. By the time he’s put on his slacks and dress shirt, Taeyong will come out of the bathroom and he’ll let himself in to freshen up. When he’s done, Taeyong will have poured two cups of coffee - one half milk and one plain black. He’ll be sitting by the kitchen table, munching on the breakfast he’s prepared. 

Today is no different, Taeyong already sitting there, huddling up under a blanket as he’s still cold. He’s putting the last of Doyoung’s lunch into his lunch box.

“I might be a little late tonight,” Taeyong says, checking his calendar on his phone with one hand, while he arranges things into Doyoung’s lunch box with the other. “I’m really sorry, but the interior decorator wants to meet at the shop and they couldn’t do any other time.” 

Doyoung shrugs. “That’s okay,” Doyoung says, used to Taeyong coming and going at later hours by now. It’s not that he doesn’t miss Taeyong, but he doesn’t want to be too overbearing. He knows Taeyong is busy preparing for his shop opening, and that he misses Doyoung just as much during the long days he’s gone. 

“It’s not, it’s your birthday,” Taeyong whines. 

“It’s just a birthday,” Doyoung says again. He’s happy that he gets to see Taeyong at all, each morning he wakes up next to him still feeling like something sacred. 

“But,” Taeyong pouts, giving Doyoung those big eyes that make his knees weak. 

“Stop pouting,” Doyoung whines, knowing very much how weak he is for it. “We’ll go out for dinner this weekend, okay?”

“My treat,” Taeyong promises, patting Doyoung’s knee. “And ice-cream after?” 

“Keep talking,” Doyoung urges, leaning forward a little so his knee grazes past Taeyong’s thigh.

“And maybe when we get home-” Taeyong starts, but his phone rings to interrupt them, a noisy shrill echoing in their kitchen. Taeyong flinches, grabbing it and turning the volume down. “I’m sorry, I have to take this.”

“Of course,” Doyoung says, taking a sip of his own coffee. Taeyong answers the phone, walking into the living room to continue it. 

Doyoung really doesn’t mind how much Taeyong works. He isn’t upset about the lost hours or the late evenings he pulls, he’s more concerned about Taeyong. He works so hard, Doyoung worries often if he’s getting enough sleep, if he’s remembering to eat lunch and drink enough water during breaks. 

There’s not much Doyoung can do to help the preparations for Taeyong’s own shop, not when he’s got a fulltime job himself that fills in his days. He enjoys it, the small firm he works for offering him enough time off and benefits to be able to support Taeyong in pursuing his dream to open up his own pâtisserie. 

After working long hours in a high-end restaurant, convincing the culinary world that Taeyong’s creations were worthy of recognition, Taeyong couldn’t wait to start on his own - and Doyoung couldn’t wait to support him every step of the way. 

“That was Yuta, he wants to meet for coffee before we head into work to look at some of the sketches,” Taeyong says, “I should get going.” 

Doyoung hums, watching Taeyong gather his stuff and dump them into his backpack. On his way out the door Doyoung stops him, pushing his own lunchbox into Taeyong’s hands.

“Don’t forget to eat,” Doyoung asks, and Taeyong blushes, taking the lunchbox from him. 

“Of course,” Taeyong says, leaning up on his toes to press a kiss to Doyoung’s lips. “Thank you, see you tonight!” 

Moments later he’s out the door, the taste of his lip balm still lingering in Doyoung’s mouth. 

He goes through the rest of the day barely noting that it is in fact his birthday. It’s not like he minds, preferring the timid celebration he has with his co workers, sharing some cake with their morning coffee. They even get him a little card with notes and personal anecdotes, making him feel really old. 

A couple hours after lunch his boss comes into his office, telling him to take the last few hours off because it’s his birthday - he should be out enjoying it. Although he doesn’t have any plans of celebrating, he does thank him for the offer and heads out early. 

He expects to come home to an empty apartment, thinking maybe he can squeeze in a nap before he starts working on dinner for tonight. Instead he finds Taeyong curled up on the sofa under one of his blankets, eyes closed as he snores softly. He stares at him from the doorway, admiring how pretty Taeyong looks when he’s peacefully asleep. It's a rare occasion, as Taeyong is always the first one to wake and get out of bed in the mornings. 

After watching him sleep for a little too long, he carefully kneels down in front of him, slipping his arm under Taeyong’s knees until he can scoop him up in his arms. The two seater is too small for him to sleep comfortably, straining his neck at an uncomfortable angle to fit. Instead Doyoung picks him up, very carefully carrying him into their bedroom. 

He tucks him in, pulling the duvet up to his chin to ensure he doesn’t get cold. He knows Taeyong probably didn’t mean to fall asleep there, wonders if he had plans for Doyoung’s birthday - but Taeyong has been so tired lately and watching him sleep was as good a birthday present as any.

He makes sure to shut the bedroom door behind him, heading into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. He feels old and wise when he sits down with a book, thinking it’s still a pretty good birthday.

About an hour later the bedroom door creaks open, followed by the soft sound of Taeyong’s slippers padding into the living room. He has their duvet draped over his shoulders like a cape, smiling when he sees Doyoung and kneels down on the sofa to sit in his lap, burying Doyoung in his blanket fort with him. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, voice soft with sleep. Doyoung chuckles affectionately, reaching up to brush some of Taeyong’s hair out of his face. It’s a mess, sticking up in every direction from his nap, still he’s no less cute with it. 

“Good evening, did you have a nice nap?”

Taeyong whines, falling forward to press his forehead against Doyoung’s shoulder. 

“No,” he disagrees, “I didn’t want to nap, I was going to cook and clean up before you got back, but I fell asleep.”

“Oh baby,” Doyoung hums, running his hand up Taeyong’s back, rubbing at the nape of his neck, teasing the little hairs there. “You don’t have to do that, I’m happy just having you here.”

“Still, I wanted to do something nice for today at least. I’ve been so busy lately, I feel like I’ve barely seen you,” Taeyong says, a pout on his pretty lips that Doyoung kisses away.

“Hush,” Doyoung quiets him. “I just want to sit here with you, that’s enough.” 

Taeyong frowns defeatedly, falling back against Doyoung’s chest. “Can we at least order food? I’m starving,” he murmurs into Doyoung’s neck. Doyoung chuckles, wrapping his arm back around Taeyong as he takes out his phone. 

“What do you want to eat?” He asks. “It’s my birthday so I get to pick, and I’ve decided that you should pick.” 

Taeyong huffs but eventually gives in, saying what he wants to eat which Doyoung ends up ordering for them. Taeyong snuggles up to him while they wait, his soft breath tickling the hollow of Doyoung’s throat. 

Doyoung answers the door to collect their delivery. When he returns Taeyong has brought their duvet back into the bedroom and put on a warm sweater instead, sitting with a small little gift in his lap. 

Doyoung frowns when he sees it, sitting down next to Taeyong and putting the plastic take out bags down on the table. 

“I wanted to give you something but… it’s more…” Taeyong purses his lips, struggling over his words. “It’s not really about the gift it’s uh, well - it’s…” 

“Should I just open it?” Doyoung asks, filling in the words for him. Taeyong worries his lower lip between his teeth. 

“Yeah, go ahead,” Taeyong says, handing the gift over. 

Doyoung opens it carefully, untying the ribbon and undoing the tape of the wrapping. There’s a small black box inside, and Doyoung turns it around in his hands, hearing the contents move around inside. 

“Open it,” Taeyong urges, and Doyoung lifts the lid. 

There’s a keychain inside, a silver chain with a small silver heart on it. Doyoung coos at it, taking it out of the box and turning it around on his hand. One side of it is engraved, their initials with a little heart between them. 

“It’s not just a keychain,” Taeyong points out. “I mean, it is a keychain, but,” he takes a deep breath, folding his hands in his lap, “but I was thinking that once I have my shop settled we could look at… a place.” 

“A place?” Doyoung asks, but he thinks he knows where Taeyong is heading. Five years and he knows all the signs so well, knows the way Taeyong falls shy when he’s uncertain about something, like the blush on his cheeks right now.

“Like, a house where our bedroom is not also our office,” Taeyong says. 

It’s the next step for them, Doyoung knows this. Renting their tiny one bedroom apartment is not ideal, space wise or financially. Now that they both have stable incomes, there is no reason not to look at a new place together, if only to get out of the monthly rent payment. It’s the next step and yet he’s treading on dangerous territory each time he thinks about it, knowing it’s more than just the order of things - it’s a huge commitment. 

Besides the obvious financial commitment, there’s also the promise of _them_. Buying a place together is a promise of years to come, years spent together in _their_ home. It’s a promise Doyoung won’t say no to, but it’s nothing they can decide on lightly, and the silence resting between them is enough to gather that. 

“Okay,” Doyoung simply says after moments of consideration - not that he really needs them. He knows he wants Taeyong, for now and for the years to come and everything after and in between. There’s no timeline to it in Doyoung’s head. Taeyong is permanent in his life already, and there’s no _end_ to it, there’s only steps forward. 

“Okay?” Taeyong asks, a little apprehension to his tone. “That’s it, okay?” 

“I mean - yes,” Doyoung says, laughing nervously. “Yes, I want to - oh god, yes, of course I want that.” 

Taeyong laughs at this, surging forward to throw his arms around Doyoung’s neck in a resolute hug. Doyoung holds him close, feeling so relieved with the newfound promise, there’s no better birthday gift he could’ve asked for. 

**taeyong**

The shark plushie that resides in their bed stares back at Doyoung when he wakes up. It’s still early, but Doyoung’s alarm is going off and there’s a reason for that.

It’s Taeyong’s birthday, the day he’s turning twenty-five. It’s a day Doyoung has been looking forward to but fearing at the same time. In his planner he’s called it D-DAY, the day that he’s going to ask the question. 

It’s not _just_ Taeyong’s birthday, it’s also the day he’s going to ask Taeyong to marry him. Since Doyoung’s birthday is also the anniversary of the day they first met, he thought it was only fair if Taeyong’s birthday turned into an important milestone too. 

_Milestone_ , that’s what Ten had called it - overly invested in Doyoung’s engagement plans, acting as his second in command all throughout the thorough planning process. Milestone isn’t the word Doyoung would use, because it’s not that. He hasn’t been _enduring_ with Taeyong until he finally gets to pop the question. If the idea had come to him one year ago, he probably wouldn’t have hesitated to ask the question right then and there. 

As it is, the idea didn’t come to him until one casual Wednesday evening when he had come home to Taeyong preparing dinner, and he’d had a _vision_ of sorts, imagining himself coming home to this everyday for the rest of his life. 

He’s never wanted anything quite as much, the thought alone filling his chest with so much warmth Taeyong had asked him why he was staring. He’d played it off then, not quite ready to just blurt out that it would be fine if Taeyong could stay here, forever with him, please? But the seed had been planted in his mind, the implications of forever, and what it entails to promise one another that. He wasn’t far off then, but now he feels one hundred percent certain that it’s the right time to ask the question. He’s still nervous, the yes he’s hoping for not a guarantee, only something he can hope and dream about. Still, Doyoung can’t imagine any reason for Taeyong to say no. 

Taeyong is still blissfully unaware to all of Doyoung’s what-if’s in his head, yawning as he stretches out next to Doyoung, grabbing his phone and turning the alarm off. He doesn’t have to work today, and Doyoung has taken the day off too - something he hasn’t told Taeyong, because in Taeyong’s eyes he’s just going into the office, and he’ll be home tonight to celebrate. 

Ten had come up with an excuse about a museum exhibition he wanted to take Taeyong to for his birthday, and Doyoung had insisted he should go and spend time with his friend, too. Really he just needs the house to be empty while he prepares Taeyong’s gift. 

“Happy birthday baby,” Doyoung greets him with, snuggling up closer into Taeyong’s chest. Taeyong hums happily, running a hand through Doyoung’s hair as their bodies slot together, Taeyong’s thigh slipping between Doyoung’s. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs. Doyoung cranes his neck up far enough to catch Taeyong’s lips in a kiss, softly locking their lips together. Taeyong hums happily, a breathy noise bubbling up from his throat when Doyoung pulls away. 

“I’ll give you your gift tonight,” Doyoung speaks against his lips.

“But I want it now,” Taeyong whines impatiently, his trademark pout doing wonders on Doyoung’s resolve. 

“I don’t have time to give it to you now,” Doyoung explains, a small lie. The truth is that he doesn’t have Taeyong’s gift ready yet, because even if the ring is stored away somewhere safe in a drawer Taeyong will never find, there’s still so much more he has to do before he can whip it out. 

Taeyong is not happy with this at all, pouting as he clings to Doyoung, trying to sneak his hands up the inside of his shirt. He nips at the column of Doyoung’s throat, eagerly pushing his hips down against Doyoung’s. 

“You can get a kiss for now,” Doyoung breathes, reaching down to untangle Taeyong’s hands from around him and grab them instead. “But then you need to get ready - Ten will be here to pick you up soon.” 

Ten had to be here, because Doyoung had a lot of preparations to get to, none of which Taeyong could be around for. Taeyong seems to disagree on this right now, huffing as he tries to pull his hands out from Doyoung’s grip. 

They wrestle playfully for a moment, Doyoung laughing when Taeyong gives in and headbutts into Doyoung’s shoulder, falling down next to him in defeat. Doyoung may be twenty five now but he’s no less competitive, and Taeyong always brings out the best in him. 

“Fine,” he grumbles, leaning up on his elbows to look down at Doyoung. “But I get one kiss,” he says, hopeful eyes meeting Doyoung’s.

Doyoung chuckles breathlessly, leaning up to give Taeyong the kiss he was promised. 

“That’s all?” Taeyong whines when Doyoung pulls away. “I’m twenty-five and I don’t even get a kiss with tongue for my birthday?” 

“You’re twenty-five and you still call it _kiss_ _with tongue_ ,” Doyoung says, shaking his head to himself. “Tonight I’ll kiss you all you want, alright?”

“Fine,” Taeyong sighs, falling back against the bed. 

“You have to get up, Ten will be here in like fifteen minutes,” Doyoung points out, sitting up and checking the time.

With some difficulties he does get Taeyong out the door, _promising_ that he’ll make it up to him when he gets home tonight. He can only hope he’ll be able to keep to that promise, suddenly feeling the reality of the situation kick in when Taeyong leaves him in the silence of their house. 

They’d only been living here for a couple weeks, the new place so much more spacious than their previous flat. It’s a top floor apartment, with two bedrooms and a large living room, big enough so they can have people over without feeling like their friends are intruding on their personal lives. While the place had been ready to move in when they’d bought it, there was also an attic that they had yet to renovate and make something of. It made it the perfect room for Doyoung’s plans. 

In the attic there’s a large window, giving a fantastic view of the stars at night. When they’d purchased the apartment they’d mused about making it a bedroom someday, sleeping under the beautiful view of thenight sky. The room wasn’t quite ready for that yet, but it was just right for Doyoung’s plans today. 

He cleans up the place first, before he puts down the picnic plaid right under the window, envisioning the moonlight shining down on it once the evening comes around. He places two pillows on it for them to sit on, arranging them so they’re facing each other. 

Then he starts working on the real challenge. He’d thought long and hard about how he wanted to do this, written speeches and letters that never ended up working out, until he gave up and put the pencil down. Instead he’d started searching online for other alternatives while seeking out Ten’s advice - who told him to just _do it_. It wasn’t about the proposal itself or the method, it was about getting the yes he so desired. While that may be true, Taeyong did not deserve anything less than the best, and Doyoung had to make sure this proposal was just that. 

So he planned and he thought, lying awake at night with Taeyong in his arms, thinking of a good way to go about proposing. He thought about all the things he’s done with Taeyong, all the memories they’ve made and the fondness in which he recalls them, and how he wants a proposal that captures all of that. He wants it to reflect everything he’s had with Taeyong, which is how he comes up with the idea.

Weeks ago he booted up his old laptop, opening up the folder with old pictures. The pictures dated back to their very first date, a younger Taeyong and Doyoung still equally as happy. There’s hundreds of them, showing them on dates, or just silly selfies at home, selfies with their friends soon becoming mutual friends, photos taken in bed in nothing but sheets - Taeyong loves taking pictures of them any chance he gets, and Doyoung is so grateful for that right now.

He’d gotten them all printed out, over two hundred photos that he stands with in his hands now. He had bought some line and clothespins, planning on putting the photos up all around their attic, but when he stands there with them, looking around the room, he feels a little bit overwhelmed. He doesn’t know where to start, every photo making him smile the same, feeling like it belongs right in the front, like it’s a memory that he can’t wait to reminisce with Taeyong. 

Except standing there staring at the photos isn’t going to get anything done, so he gets to work. It takes much longer than he had anticipated, and he’s very thankful he took the entire day off to arrange all this. Getting the photos set-up is just half of the work, he wants to prepare the rest of the picnic too, and mentally rehearse the things he wants to say - even if he hopes the pictures do all the talking. 

The hours slip away as he makes the final adjustments, arranging the photos to hang a little bit neater on the strings, making sure they overlap just nicely. It doesn’t really matter - he’s just grateful to have some distraction, keeping his mind occupied with anything but the proposal. 

Ten texts him when they’re on the way home, and his heart starts racing by just the notification, knowing Taeyong is only minutes from seeing everything he’s built up during the day. Worry itches at him, that maybe he won’t like it - maybe he’ll think it’s too much, or that it’s cheesy. Maybe he’ll say no to Doyoung’s proposal. 

He swallows down all that worry when the door opens downstairs, and he hears footsteps coming in through the living room.

“Doie?” Taeyong calls.

Doyoung takes a deep breath, “up here!” 

“Where are you?” Taeyong asks, his voice a little closer now.

“I’m in the attic!” Doyoung calls back to him. He hears the ladder creek, before Taeyong appears at the top of it. For a split second his face falls in confusion, looking at Doyoung sitting on the picnic plaid. Then he looks around the room and sees the decorations, the endless rows of photos of them. 

“What’s this?” Taeyong asks, a little bewildered as he climbs up the last steps. Doyoung gets to his feet to help him up the last few steps. 

When Taeyong is standing next to Doyoung in their attic, he looks at the photos in awe, stopping when he spots a particularly funny one that has his face breaking out into a fond smile. 

“That was our first holiday,” he says, cooing as he sees them _camping_ , something Doyoung was sure he would hate but that Taeyong had taught him to like, “you complained like _all_ night that you were cold.” 

“I would have gone hypothermic if you hadn’t offered to share sleeping bags,” Doyoung points out, and Taeyong laughs, eyes drifting out over the other pictures. 

“Is that...” Taeyong frowns, pulling the photograph a little closer. It’s Halloween a couple years ago, Taeyong dressed in a maid costume, settled under Doyoung’s shoulder, predictably not dressed up at all. He laughs at it, squeezing Doyoung’s hand as they walk together through the tunnel of their photos, wrapped in all the happy memories. 

When they reach the picnic plaid, Doyoung sits down first, patting the pillow for Taeyong. 

“Sit down,” Doyoung asks. Taeyong gives into his request, still enthralled by all the pictures around him. 

“Hey,” Taeyong says when his eyes finally land on Doyoung. 

“Hi,” Doyoung breathes nervously, eyeing Taeyong with apprehension. He still looks clueless, overwhelmed by all the pictures but no closer to figuring out what’s going on. 

“Is this what you did all day?” Taeyong asks, looking at the roof. Even the steel beams of the attic have been covered in polaroids. 

“Yeah,” Doyoung admits. “It is, yeah.”

He doesn’t add the part where he spent the majority of the day stressing about this, or the other preparations. 

“Wait, is that...” Taeyong leans forward, grabbing a photo that hangs behind Doyoung. It’s one of Doyoung in his pyjamas, that first night so many years ago where they spent the night eating cake on his living room floor. It was such a simple evening yet it had meant the world to both of them, the start of a friendship and blossoming relationship. “You look so young.” 

“Hey, are you saying I’m old now?” Doyoung asks, frowning. 

“You’re certainly older,” Taeyong says, resting his hand on Doyoung’s thigh. “But you age like fine wine.” 

Doyoung grimaces at the cliche. 

“Are you calling me a grape?” He asks, and Taeyong laughs before he presses a kiss to Doyoung’s cheek. 

Doyoung hums appreciatively, but he’s still thinking about the little black box under his pillow. Taeyong seems to notice that he’s a little off, grabbing his hands as he sits back. 

“Everything okay?” 

“Well I put these up for a reason,” Doyoung says. He clears his throat, closing his eyes to take a deep breath and will his fears away. 

“I wanted to hold a long speech about everything I love about you, and what you mean to me, and how many great things we’ve done together but… pictures always say more than words.” 

“A speech?” Taeyong inquires.

Doyoung breathes in shakily. “I wanted to tell you that you always light up my days, that you’re the one thing I look forward to coming home to after work, that you’ve brought me so much joy and shown me so many things that I never thought I would get to feel, that before I met you I never thought I could have something like this, that I could love someone so much and receive the same in return.” 

“Taeyong, I wanted to tell you you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, that your smile always lights up my days and that there’s nothing quite like it, that you’re so beautiful that I still think I made you up in my head sometimes, and that each time you prove me wrong I feel so _lucky_ to have you, to receive your love and to be with you.” 

“But really there’s only one thing I want to say,” and that something might be one of the most loaded things he has ever said and yet, it comes to him so very easily.

It’s just something he’s wanted for over a year. It’s just a promise to have Taeyong forever. It’s just a proposal. It’s just Taeyong, the love of his life. 

Just Taeyong.

“Will you marry me?” 

Taeyong makes an abrupt noise in the back of his throat, eyes widening comically as he stares at Doyoung. Doyoung pulls the little box out from under the pillow, canting it open with two hands to show the ring inside. 

“Oh god,” he breathes, ultimately shocked by it. Doyoung doesn’t know if that’s a good or bad thing, anticipating an answer - anything that’s not Taeyong’s initial surprise. 

“Yes.”

It’s just that. Just one single word, just _yes_ and that’s it - the built up anxiety in Doyoung’s chest caves against the flood of warmth crashing over it, the relief mixed with happiness hitting him just as hard as Taeyong, throwing himself forward into Doyoung’s arms. 

He holds him close, burying his face in Taeyong’s neck, smelling like _home_. It’s so soothing, so comforting to be able to hold Taeyong like this, to know that he said yes - to know that all Doyoung’s over-thinking had been just that, needless worrying. He doesn’t want to let go, feels like now that they’ve promised each other forever he really doesn’t have to let go. 

But he does, if only to put the ring on Taeyong’s finger. With shaky hands he slides the ring onto Taeyong’s fingers, fitting just perfectly. 

“I can’t believe you did this…” Taeyong says, looking around the room again. There’s a hitch to his voice, eyes wet with tears. “Doyoung I… I don’t know what to say.” 

“You just said yes, that’s enough.” 

Taeyong giggles, reaching up to cup Doyoung’s face to kiss him. It’s soft but full of promise, making Doyoung think he doesn’t mind having this forever. 

Pulling apart, Doyoung looks at Taeyong shyly, seeing the blush on his cheeks. His breathing is a little off, looking at Doyoung with wide eyes. It seems that he, like Doyoung, is still struggling to wrap his head around this, the fact that Doyoung just asked him to _marry him_ , the idea so out of place yet so perfectly them. 

“I can’t believe you went through all this…” Taeyong says, gesturing around the room. “You could have asked me in your pyjamas before bed one night and I probably would have said yes-”

“I’d like to think I’m more romantic than that,” Doyoung laughs. 

Taeyong smiles, his cheeks bunching up as he does, reaching out to take Doyoung’s hands. His hand sits on top, the silver engagement ring snug on his finger. 

“It’s so pretty - how did you know…” 

“Ten helped me pick it,” Doyoung admits. He knows what Taeyong likes, but when it comes to fashion there’s only so far he can predict him.

It is thin and silver, three round little diamonds sitting in the middle of it. The moonlight peaks out to cast a shy glance at it, the little stones reflecting prettily. 

“Did he know?” Taeyong asks.

“There’s a reason he had to take you out today. I had to prepare all of this,” Doyoung says, gesturing around. “I also… baked a cake,” Doyoung admits reluctantly. 

“You did _what_?” Taeyong asks, perhaps even more shocked than he had been just a moment ago. “Is the kitchen okay?”

“Hey!” Doyoung says, pouting at him. “It’s not that bad. I took it out of the oven in time, but it’s still in the tin - I didn’t have time.” 

“Oh Doyoung, keep talking, don’t be shy-” Doyoung laughs, shoving at Taeyong’s shoulder, shaking his head to himself. 

“Let’s go downstairs, and I’ll show it to you,” Doyoung suggests, getting to his feet. He extends his hand to Taeyong, helping him back up. He’s heading downstairs, but Taeyong remains standing, looking around the attic. 

“Doyoung?” He asks, eyes narrowed down on the photograph that had been behind Doyoung all along. He picks it up, untacks it from the clothespin and holds it up. “Remember this night?” 

“Of course, it’s when we first met,” Doyoung says. 

“I asked you to make a wish, do you remember what it was?” 

Doyoung flushes, looking down at his hands.

“I do,” he admits. 

“Did it come true?” Taeyong asks. Doyoung’s heart skips a beat, cheeks still red as he plays with his fingers nervously. He just asked Taeyong to marry him - but that’s something for their future. This is more intimate, it’s everything from the last five years, and then some. 

“It did,” Doyoung admits. 

Taeyong looks at him with anticipating eyes, the next question on the tip of his tongue. 

“Well if it did… could you tell me? I think that’s allowed...” 

He remembers very well what he wished for - he’s reminded of it everyday. Still, he’s shy to admit it, no matter how long it’s been. 

“I wished for someone like you.”

Taeyong smiles, stepping up closer to Doyoung, the picture still in his hand.

“What if I told you I made a wish, too, that night,” Taeyong offers. 

“I would tell you that it wasn’t your birthday, and that you endangered both our wishes by making an unlawful one.”

Taeyong laughs, running his hand through Doyoung’s hair, resting it at the back of his neck. 

“I think we got away with it,” Taeyong says. 

“What did you wish for?” 

“Someone like you - someone that wants to eat cake with me at one a.m. on the living room floor.” 

“And, did you find him?” 

Taeyong giggles. 

“Well, we have a living room floor - and you said you made cake… so, do you want to find out?” 

Doyoung’s cake doesn’t come out of the cake tin in one piece. Instead the sad pieces fall onto the cutting board, like a little mountain of disappointment - but luckily that’s all that goes wrong that evening. 

Taeyong has brought a cake from his shop, decorates it with twenty-five small candles and sets it down between them by the coffee table. He leans over the table, taking Doyoung’s hand in his. 

Taeyong closes his eyes as he leans forward, blowing out the candles. They all go out on the first attempt.

“Make a wish,” Doyoung whispers. 

Now that their first wish has been fulfilled, maybe they can afford to make another one. Doyoung waits patiently for Taeyong to open his eyes. 

“What did you wish for?” Doyoung tests him. 

Taeyong giggles, squeezing Doyoung’s hand. “It’s a secret.” 

Taeyong’s wish may be a secret, but Doyoung has a feeling that he knows - he thinks they wished for the same thing again. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading. I’d love to hear your thoughts about it so please leave a comment if you’d like!


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